L' Harpa Sagrada
Language: Catalan (Català)
A l' Arbre diví
Penjada n'és l' Harpa
L' Harpa de David,
en Sion amada.
Son clavier és d'or,
ses cordes de plata,
Mes, com algun temps,
Ja l'amor no hi canta,
que hi fa set gemecs
de dol y enyorança.
S'obrien los cels,
l'infern se tancava,
I al cor de son Déu
La terra és lligada.
A l'ultim gemec
lo dia s'apaga,
I es trenquen los rocs
Topant l'un amb l'altre.
També es trenca el cor
d'una Verge Mare
que, escoltant los sons,
a l'ombra plovara:
- Angelets del cel,
despenjau-me l'Harpa,
que de tan amunt
no puc abastar-la;
Baixa-la si us plau,
mes de branca en branca,
no s'esfloren pas
ses cordes ni caixa.
Posau-la en mon pit,
que puga tocar-la;
si ha perdut lo so,
li tornaré encara:
Si no l'ha perdut,
moriré abraçant-la
le meva Harpa d'or
que el món alegrava!
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Salvador Pila) , "The sacred harp", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-01-27
Line count: 38
Word count: 144
The sacred harp
Language: English after the Catalan (Català)
On the divine Tree
the Harp is hanged.
It is David's Harp,
cherished in Sion.
Its peg is made of gold,
its strings of silver,
yet, in it,
love is no longer chanted
only seven laments
of grief and longing.
Heaven was opening,
while hell was closing itself
and, to the heart of its God
the Earth is attached.
With a final wail
the day comes to an end,
and stones break themselves
colliding with each other.
Likewise, breaks the heart
of a Virgin Mother
that, hearing those sounds,
cried in the shadow:
- Angels of Heaven,
take the Harp down,
it is hanged so high
that I cannot reach to it;
Please, bring it down for me,
yet careful that, from branch to
branch, its case and strings
don't get brushed.
Place it on my bosom,
so that I can play it;
in case it lost its sound,
I will give it back:
If it hasn't lost it,
I will die embracing
my golden Harp
that once rejoiced the world!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Catalan (Català) to English copyright © 2008 by Salvador Pila, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2008-05-31
Line count: 38
Word count: 170
